flash fiction friday #25
flash fiction friday #25, and/or-inclusion trigger (ie. use either half or all of the phrase): those who mind don't matter; those who matter don't mind.
rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to the deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whatever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.
posted by sweet trini @ 1:32 pm
4 comments
4 Comments:
those who mind don’t matter; those who matter don’t mind.
She wrung her hands together; dryly, nervously. It was almost dark. The traffic was finally lessening, and her first wave of optimism about the day washed over her.
i just may be on time
The light ahead was red. Its bloodiness washed over the wet road, over the wet cars, and into hers. It washed over her dry hands, seemingly reddening them as well. Its redness washed over her optimism. She looked nervously at the dashboard clock, whishing that its green would infect the stubborn traffic light ahead.
those who mind don’t matter; those who matter don’t mind.
She saw her clearly in her mind, almost as clearly as she heard that old voice that was also curiously strong. She had been infected with the old woman’s fear from a very young age. She saw the infection as strength, a cancerous strength. At first, it helped her to cull unwanted ‘friends’. She was empowered. If she felt like blowing off a movie date, she did. Maybe she would have had plans to go to the beach, what plans? She hid from all manner of engagements, birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, funerals, retirement parties, anything and everything. She would never let anyone dictate to her. Her time was her own, always would be her own. She felt that she had to defend it fiercely.
“PWAHPH” Move!
Her horn was very European, her car wasn’t. It didn’t matter. What did was that the blaring horn made the sleeping idiot in front move, in response to the change of light. She glanced at the clock again. Time was not cooperating. It seemed that the more she rushed, the more it rushed as well. And when she tried slowing it moved doubly as fast as before, thus eating away a chunk that she would never regain.
never again
Everytime she told herself it would be the last. Why did she always do it? They were all the same, hadn’t she been warned. At the start they all want you so much. They all promise so much and claim to understand your warnings. To everything they all say “That’s fine.” And then they smile the same smile. She loved teeth, secretly of course because she would never reveal such a weakness. It was the smile that always caught her.
“Those who mind don’t matter; those who matter don’t mind.”
The words drifted out of the corner room to greet her, she winced a bit. She had not yet had the courage to broach the doorway, to meet her aunt’s accusing eyes. She always knew when she had given in to her flesh. Always knew when her flesh betrayed her.
in+done, but wayyy above this on mainpage this time, @ http://urbanfolktales.blogspot.com/2010/08/finally-fff25.html
off to read adam...walk good
adam, very intriguing- i want to reread before commenting but have to run out the door right quick, so if you care, check me back, nah...walk good.
adam: i like this character, and especially like your transitions- because your mechanism changes it feels more like being inside her stream of consciousness simultaneously with narrator's. thanks, dude. walk good.
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